The Magic of Morgana Pendragon
by TheImmaculateTruth
Summary: It has been known since her childhood that Morgana is the sister of Arthur and they have been raised as siblings. Now, when she discovers her magic, it appears that all hell will break loose. But after much persuading, Uther lifts the law binding magic. Morgause is at work, still spiteful and evil as ever, and she wants her sister.
1. Morgana's Bane

Chapter Notes: I of course, unfortunately, do not own any rights to any Merlin characters. I am just writing fanfiction. I would truly appreciate any feedback one could give. Enjoy.

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The setting sun painted the sky bloody, bruises and grapefruit on a Sunday evening, and shone in slanted passages of unpolished light through the windows of the castle of Camelot. The three Pendragons lounged in the room of counsel, Uther and Arthur absorbed by their third family member. Morgana was near tears, shaking and consumed by the mighty fear of the pyre that she was certain to be condemned to by the men that she called father and brother. Clueless and consoling, the uncertain pair begged their company to enlighten them to the mystery that had her so plagued with fear, but what little they did know would yet to cause an unbearable rift in all that they held dearest to their hearts. With a single shattering breath, the youngest Pendragon opened her full pale lips and whispered the words that would seal her fate.

"I have magic." Enthused the witch with palpable fear, so very faint from the lack of oxygen that came from her confession. Two pairs of piercing blue eyes stared down on her, one confused, the other concerned, though she could not distinguish for who was whom. The entire court seemed to have fallen silent as Uther Pendragon stared down his half-daughter, one single half of his heart, a majority of his world. The whole of Camelot was frozen in utter contempt; a witch for a princess in a kingdom which outlawed magic. How very much the supercilious Uther deserved in the eyes of his enemies, and yet they knew little of the love of a man for his daughter.

"Morgana... surely this cannot be true.. You are joking, are you not, my daughter? Tell me you are joking." What little hope the woman harbored in her body deflated from her quickly, and the air became frigid around her as the foul judgment of her father came to pass. She knew now what would happen, and she was afraid that Arthur did aswell, but Uther continued to speak uninhibited, fearful of the magic he so despised. "Magic is passed through family blood, but there is absolutely no magic in the pure blood of the noble house Pendragon. And your mother never had magic..." The dark hair of Morgana tangled around her face in heavy curlicues, as though trying to swallow her from site while her father and brother searched despondently for some reasonable explanation.

"This is no cruel joke, my father. My brother. It is true.." The girl choked, and her strong eyes of palest green frosted over to be certain she would not cry. "I harbor magic in my veins, my blood pulses the power through me, and I cannot resist. I have tried! Believe me, father, I have tried. I want it not to be true, perhaps more than you do, but it is the truth which I speak. I am a Pendragon, I speak not lies." As sudden proof, the stagnant air moved, just the slightest tug, a ripple; the smallest current of air tugged at the hair of Morgana, ripping at the thin veil of falsity that her father clung to. The winter green eyes flashed a vibrant yellow, and then the air was still again, and her relations stared at her in fright.

"Guards!" The scream of her father brought a choked sob to her lips, and Morgana stared at her father in disbelief. Trapped in the mouth of hell, the young Morgana grapple with the restraining hold of the knights of Camelot. Whatever strength she had faded from her and she collapsed into the hold of her captors as her brother sprung immediately into action, trying to reason with the man that was their father. Yet the woman was too far gone in her own head to even notice the arguing that took place not two feet from her.

"...urely the people recognize her, father. You cannot condemn her to death, she is my sister, your child. People know the daughter of Camelot, the second in line to the throne of the greatest of the five kingdoms. I beg of you, see reason. She is your pride and joy, my own as well, I dare to say. Would you really see her burned at the stake for simply being what she is?" Arthur Pendragon drove a hard, if cold bargain, and even Morgana could feel each ice cold word penetrating her soul and giving her the slightest hope for redemption, though she had done nothing wrong to deserve what had already come her way.

For time enough the people sat and waited the decision of Uther, Morgana strong once having regained her wits, Arthur brooding and deliriously hopeful, and the guards that still held Morgana curious and worried in the vaguest of ways. But when the man spoke again, his voice was drawn and it sounded as though he'd aged the years for every minute he sat in thought. "Release Morgana. Breathe not a word of this to anyone, or it will be your heads I have." His scar was puckered with worry as his forehead raised up, and the released Morgana fell to her knees immediately, quaking with shock and very bold terror, both splayed across her features in equal measure. Uther did not look at his daughter, and for that she was thankful.

With the grace that she had been taught to have, and the natural poise of a princess, Morgana raised herself from the ground and released her features to static. "I will excuse myself to my quarters, father, brother. Please think this over, know I mean you nor Camelot any harm. I am still the same Morgana I have always been, sire." The porcelain princess made a curtsy to the king, a very rare gesture for herself, and cantered quickly from the freezing counsel room. Unaware of what the future held, and terrified of what her memory served of the treason of magic.


	2. In Camelot I stay

Chapter Note: This is unbelievably short, and for that I apologise, but it is really just a filler for me to continue on into the heart of the story

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"My lady... Morgana, please come out. Tell me who has upset you this way. Surely, it is not so serious." Guinevere begged with the flatted changing screen behind which her lady hid, distraught as she was the moment she had rushed through the door. Gwen was entirely uncertain at who or what could have caused Morgana to react the way that she currently was, the girl usually so tenacious and full of life, only this despondent after one of her night terrors. Guinevere scooped up the cloth of her skirts and tried to move behind the screen once more, but her lady gave a sound of displeasure and pulled the screen closer to the wall. The room grew colder as though the heat were seeping out of it, and Gwen gave a small shiver as a voice sounded through the door.

"Morgana." Arthur Pendragon beckoned through the heavy syrup-coloured maplewood, his fist making hollow knocks against the door. Guinevere was unsure hat to do, but Morgana's head stuck out quickly from behind the screen, her pale eyes wideset in the porcelain frame of her face. Her head shook vigorously, the black tangles of her hair flailing about. With a sigh, the handmaid rushed to the door and pulled it open to face her prince, a smile kissing her lips.

"Sire. I don't believe that Lady Morgana wants company at the moment. Her time is rather occupied by... reading. The lady has become infatuated with poetry." The lies sounded unnatural and foreign in the air, and tasted acrid of Gwen's tongue, but were only slightly placated by the grin that rested on her cocoa coloured features. And yet the young prince did not believe the words which Guinevere spoke.

"I know that is not true, Gwen. Morgana is upset, I know as much."

"Forgive me, Sire. My lady did not want company, I thought it best to falsify her agitation only in case you did not know."

"I am not angry, Guinevere. But I must see my sister, please allow me in."

In no position to deny a prince entrance, the young handmaid moved aside, her skirts sweeping the floor as she pulled the door open further to allow the man in. Watching his blonde cap of hair walk toward her mistress, Guinevere felt as though she were intruding, looking in on a moment that was no business of hers. Deciding it best, the girl began to move toward the door, choosing to attend to other chores, but a far more composed Morgana spoke then, freezing her in her tracks.

"Gwen, please stay. This is... relevant to you as well." Morgana gave a smile to her servant before her head turned to her brother, the pale green of her eyes becoming fearful, but strong. The siblings watched one another carefully and curiously, Morgana looking as though she awaited judgment, and Arthur strong and ready to judge. Guinevere was extremely confuse, yet she tucked her dark ringlets behind her ear and continued to watch.

"You are my sister, Morgana. You are the daughter of Camelot, a Pendragon. And therefore, you will be allowed to stay in Camelot, alive. But under no circumstances are you to use your... magic." The word was choked from his lips, and while Morgana collapsed in something like happiness, Guinevere stared at the pair, eyes widening unhealthily. For everything that she could have guessed, never in her life would Guinevere say Morgana possessed magic. How very wrong she was.


	3. Of Magic and Might

Chapter notes: Hiya lovelies. So, this chapter has some minor twinks to the plotline. Yes, Gwaine and the like should not be knights. But I have decided they will all still be knights, as in my AU there is no tradition of only noblemen being knights. I kinda consider the first two chapter plot building/prologues, but you can consider them however you want. For me, this is where the story really begins. As always, I could definitely use the reviews! It helps motivate me when I have constructive criticism to go on, and also when I hear that people like it! Those things said, I really hope you enjoy this chapter, because I had a ton of fun writing it. Happy reading!

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The sun had long since risen above the horizon, and it baked the earth with sweltering heat. Morgana had just bathed, and she felt fresh and clean and ready for the hunting trip that had been prepared for weeks. The princess had suppressed her magic for many months since she had told her father and brother of the powers, but every day she lived in fear that either one would change their minds and condemn her to death, though neither knew that. Peering out the wavering stained glass, Morgana watched the knights prepare for the hunt, and she smiled. Getting out of Camelot was just what she needed, and she was quite pleased to be going. Turning from the window, she made for the door and stole away from the palace.

As the young witch departed the castle, the wind whipped her hair around her features in tumultuous waves, and she felt oddly light. She'd felt unbelievably trapped in the palace since she and her relations had spoken of her magic, and perhaps getting out of Camelot again would lift her spirits a touch. "Morgana." A voice beckoned from behind her, and the princess turned to find a knight loping toward her, his chain male clicking together in a rhythmic tap. A smile flowed across her lips, and she nodded her head politely to him, the dark curls lifting as they caught in a wave of wind.

"Sir Leon, I've been told that you won't be fortunate enough to accompany us on this trip. A shame, truly." And a shame it was truly; Leon was always the best hunter next to Arthur, a true knight in the eyes of all of Camelot. Morgana's lips stayed kissed with a small and polite smile as her words coloured with just a hint o displeasure. Her eyes looked round to catch sight of the horses, and she counted them out in her mind. Her, Arthur, Merlin, Gwaine, Elyan, Percival. There was a seventh horse, and her eyebrow rose in curiosity. Had another someone been invited along on their hunting trip unbeknownst to her? But a sudden chuckle from behind her alerted her to the truth of the matter.

"Indeed, a shame it would have been. The king had some urgent business that had required my attention, but it appears that we had the ability to tie it off early and allow me to come with the party. Hunting is my favourite time spent away from the castle." Leon's arm waved out in the direction of the horses, politely pressing her onward to where the rest of their group was already on their horses, Merlin and Arthur bickering in the same childish way that they always seemed to, which always lent to her belief that they were truly friends as she and Guinevere were, and not simply a master and servant. The princess swept forward, only slightly more graceful in her hunting attire than one of the long gowns that she would usually wear. The tight pants and cinching metal armor that wrapped around her torso made her feel free, and it was one of her most favourite reasons for hunting.

"Well, we're all very glad you could come." She smiled at Leon politely as he nodded, going off to his own horse, his smacking against Percival's shoulder in a friendly gesture. Gently shaking her head, Morgana grasped the reins of her horses and mounted the giant creature, her pale hand gently petting at it's main. The girl loved riding, and always had, horses being her most favoured animal. With a gentle kick to its hide, the horse started and the hunting party rode away from Camelot and out into the wilderness.

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Night had fallen upon them, and the men where greatly encouraged by the mountain lion that roasted over a large pyre. They chattered happily back and forth, as the encouraging wind blew oxygen into the great flames and they lept higher. Morgana too had been pleased by the kill, but now that the darkness clunk to her skin in inky blackness, and the flames danced before her eyes, she felt choked and frightened again as her father's voice whispered again in her mind. 'You will use no magic, under the penalty of death.' The immoral princess stared into the flames that would take her, fearful and teary eyed.

"Morgana, are you all right?" Inquired Merlin, his dark eyes meeting her own in polite worry. Her pale hues sparked and she smiled in a somewhat-believable manner as the knights turned curiously, her brother most interested of all.

"I'm fine. Just a tad chilly." Her accented voice was strained, and the lie was hardly believable with her close proximity to the fire, but no one else got a chance to intervene in her head. A war cry filled the knight, and Saxon's swarmed down from the hilltops around them like a small sea of human bodies crashing down on them. The fear in Morgana's eyes was replaced with a different kind of terror as the knights sprung into action, reaching immediately for their weapons. She too grabbed for a sword, her battle instinct immediate.

"Gwaine, Percival, protect Morgana!" Arthur, ever the efficient swordsmen took out a Saxon throat as he screamed to order. Morgana turned so that she stood back to back with the two knights, their enemies swarming in from every angle that the eye could see. Suddenly, a sword came for her, and her own shot up to block the attack, and she was engaged in battle. Her feet took stance without need for thought, altering her positioning ever so slightly while she flung her sword out over and over to protect her body, or that of one of the knights. Morgana ducked as the sharp edge of the blade came straight for her, grazing the tips of her frazzled hair as her own weapon slammed through the menial armor of the Saxon and stole his life.

Gasping for air, the princess turned in time to see a body creep behind Leon, near to striking the knight down. She screamed, her eyes flashing with amber light as the wind picked up and burst out like a small bomb blast, sending the Saxon's every which way. Not before one got her, however. A sharp pain captured her left torso, and she choked on air, a rattling breath stinging from her lungs. Morgana's hand reached down to her side, grasping the area just below her breastplate and holding tightly. Blood coated her pale hand, and she collapsed down, each painful breathe dragging her closer to unconscious.

"Morgana!" Merlin enthused, rushing forward to her. Her eyelids fluttered, and she heard a bird chirping far off in the forest. The last thing she saw was 6 nameless faces, and she faded into darkness.


	4. Rise Morgana Pendragon

Chapter Notes: Hello, my lovely readers. I apologise sincerely for how long this chapter took to write, but I had quite a block on me and I had to wait until I could get out something I was proud of. Especially due to the fact that this chapter is integral to the progression of Uther lifting the ban on magic. It is a touch short and for that I apologise. Yes, it is from Uther's POV as I obviously cannot use our dear lady Morgana, but it will pick up from her eyes as of next chapter. Until then, happy reading!

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The door burst open with unruly force, and the feel of trepidation swarmed the air. "Morgana's been hurt." Arthur blurted to the king, who sat in startled bewilderment, still trying to recover from the shock of the thrown door. It took Uther quite a few moments of silence before the words made any sense to him, and then he was on his feet. Uther's eyes widened in fear and worry, and he was immediately consumed with grief. What should happen if his daughter died after all of the qualms they'd been having? Would she have known that he loved her? Releasing his emotions back to static, the great man stared down at the frantic face of his firstborn child, and with all the power of his kingship, he swept down upon him.

"How could this have happened? Where is she? Take me to her now." Quite often the rift between father and son was too great to be melded together by a single something, but one thing that both the king and the prince had in common was their common adoration for the daughter of Camelot. Uther's features softened a touch, and he reached out to gently touch the matted blond head of his boy, slicked down by a thin coating of blood. "You're harmed, my son. What has happened to you? Who else is hurt?" The air of the room was tainted by the poisonous emotions that leaked from both men, whose combined created enough anger and fear for that of a thousand.

"Our hunting party was attacked, Saxon's. Morgana fought, but in the end... Leon would have died, save her using sorcery. She stopped the Saxon's with some sort of magical bomb, but not before one of them caught her with his sword. Gaius says it has nicked her lung, and she will be gone before the sunset." Arthur could hardly choke out each syllable, and Uther could barely take them. Neither man wanted to see the death of Morgana, but she had used magic, and that was upon the pain of death as it's own punishment. Uther's gloved hand ran through his greying hair as he tried to contemplate the loss of his daughter. For quite a while, both men walked in silence.

The king surged within the room of the physician, who was curled over a limp and fragile body. A terrible smell filled the room, and the sound of ragged breathing came from the form on the table. When Gaius moved from view, Uther caught his first sight of his daughter, and nearly collapsed in agony. The princess' body was covered in her own blood, and more still soaked into her lungs, which he could clearly hear from her wet gasps for air. What blood could be siphoned up was by towels, other than that, Morgana was dying, and painfully. Uther knew that even before Gaius spoke.

"Sire, I am sorry. There is nothing medical that can fix this. The blade punctured her lung, and even as we speak the princess drowns in her own blood." The old man croaked out unhappily, the death of his princess clearly affecting him as well. Gaius tried to ward Uther away from the girl, but the king's arms found their way around her body, and his sob filled the air with pain and sorrow. The dilapidation of this snow white girl, so full of vibrance only a short time before, was what drew the strength from the king, who clutched his daughter's body with such fear, as though she might break like a fragile pane of glass.

Uther's eyes found Gaius, and there was so much pain in the depths of the usually cold brown hues, that it took even the physician by surprise. "Morgana cannot die." The king begged, his arms holding the limp body even tighter as it breathed a heavy breath into the room. He looked back down at his child, seeing her in similar fashion to the ghost of herself as a child. Though he knew that she had used magic, the thought of loosing her brought nothing but pain and unhappiness to the already hallowed heart of Uther Pendragon. God would have to forgive him for the treachery that was allowing magic.

"I'm sorry, my lord. There is no way that I can save her. Morgana will succumb to death in a hour's time." Gaius looked down when he spoke the words that he hated even telling himself, but Uther would not have them. He stood from his place at his child's side and gently swept back her disarray of black locks to cup her cold cheek in his gloved palm. With a sigh, he kissed her forehead before he went to Gaius, gripping the shoulder of his physician. The old man looked wearily into the eyes of his king, and knew that he would not like what words he would hear next.

"You will use whatever means necessary to save my daughter. Including sorcery." The king ordered, before he swept from the chambers, leaving his soul behind him.


	5. Hiatus

I'm sorry to say that I will probably putting this story on hiatus.

Not too many people seem interested in it, and I need the motivation of favourites and follows and especially reviews to keep me writing. Without, I'm just a ghost, and that is not okay with me unfortunately.

-TheImmaculateTruth


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